And a Long Bitter Aftertaste
by eden alice
Summary: Turns out he could never stop hurting the ones he loved. A Ronnie/Jack story starting at the end.
1. Chapter 1

This is going to be a short story (four chapters at the most) inspired by the quoted Slipknot song. I just wanted to be writing, I'm well aware that I have quite a few Eastenders stories that need updating but I want to wait for the show to carry on with certain storylines before I update. So right now you are stuck with this little story and I have another short story planned where Danielle meets Glenda I may write. I hope you enjoy reading.

**And a Long Bitter Aftertaste**

_Bury all your secrets in my skin  
Come away with innocence, and leave me with my sins- Slipknot, Snuff._

He stands in the darkness, a shadow of a man, an inky black ghost of sharp angles.

Red light reflects on water, makes it shine like blood before his eyes can focus. Rain whispers on broken pavement like static, slides across his face, cool against fresh bruises. He can still hear her laughter, ringing and cold, memories fading in and out like a bad transmission. _"What could you possibly offer me now?"_

Tomorrow.

But then, that was never enough.

In many ways it was all too much.

He had spent so long running for everyone, from himself, from her because he feared the worst. By finally confronting the situation it had all spiralled away beyond his grip.

Turns out he could never stop hurting the ones he loved.

The night is bitterly cold. Frost caught in elaborate spiders webs shine like jewels in the headlights of a passing car. His fingers are numb, shirt transparent in the downpour.

He feels it all so much it's overwhelming. He just wanted it to be the end. The fact that she is not here to share this night with him hurts the most.

_"I'm not the woman you loved anymore. I don't think she ever existed and I couldn't bear to see the disappointment in your eyes when you realise I'm right. I have to go before I destroy you as well."_

He did not have the words to tell her that it was already too late for him. He would willingly drown in her gaze and living without her was enough to destroy everything he had ever been. He would follow her over the edge of the world.

The iron gate of the graveyard is locked with a rusted bolt; he'd been standing absolutely still, hands in pockets, eyeing the gate for so long time has lost all reference. When he does not move it is easier not to think. It is easier to imagine the wind and rain blowing wet and cold and foul through everything around him, moaning through the cracks in the trees, and he imagines it could blow right through him, whistling through the hollow places, carrying away everything but frail skin and muscle and bone. It's easier to believe the world might stop turning with him.

He has refined the habit of putting of the inevitable until the worst possible time into some sort of art. He had been trying to build up his defences, make his heart like stone. Instead he was becoming more raw and afraid with every passing second, but then, she always did know how to get under his skin.

Another car drives past, wheels and mechanics creating clumsy noise through the silence, harsh headlights spurring him into action. The stiff and brittle bolt flakes under his hands. He thinks the gate should creek menacingly as it swung open. This was never the way he thought he'd have to say goodbye.

He lurches across muddy grass, a soft surface if he is to fall. And oh god he feels like he might fall. Not because of copious amounts of alcohol but because every step seems more and more impossible. Another step towards losing his last piece of hope, then this will all be real and he will have nothing.

Half a night's determined effort at drinking himself senseless, and he can still see her eyes, cold ash and dull steel, ravaged, mocking. See her long hair cascading over slim shoulders golden and rich, face a stunning mix of strong cheekbones and intelligent blue eyes . She was all sharp, broken edges, splintered fragments flying apart, shrapnel piercing friend and foe alike.

He wishes he could have held her.

Even in the gloom he finds her grave without trying. He swallows against the rising nausea. It should have been him, he should have saved her. Words are meaningless but he has so much he wants to tell her.

He feels a wet stinging on his knees before he realises he has fallen. If only he could cry. With a hesitant hand he touches the cold stone, runs his finger down the carved letters of her name with heavy regret.

Veronica Elizabeth Mitchell.

At least she can sleep now.


	2. Chapter 2

Just wanted to say thank you **so **much for your reviews they mean a lot. I hope you enjoy the update.

The Beginning

She awakes feeling crumpled and confused. Even with her eyes closed the surrounding world feels foreign and unfamiliar but she was still drowsy and able to push it away for just a moment longer.

There was a dead weight across her waist and a warm solidness to her side that she instinctively rolled towards wishing to ward of the awaiting chill for as long as possible. Its only when she feels slow even breathe against her cheek that she contemplates opening her eyes.

She remembers suddenly. It comes rushing back like waves till she is drowning under the weight of it all once again. The fleeting moment of oblivion tasted bitter sweet on her dry tongue as opened her eyes.

A bright and unfamiliar light caused her to blink, a hand unconsciously moving to cradle her abdomen before she realises that there was nothing left inside to protect. It seemed impossible that sunlight could ever be so severe and alive while she had lost everything.

She had somehow slept through to early afternoon in a hospital bed with Jack by her side. She felt relieved that he had not awaked with her. There was noises and chatter the other side of the door yet somehow it did not feel intrusive. She felt as if she was part of her own insular little world inside the room; it was calm within its desolation.

_Jack stared mutely at the mess of shards of glass and twisted flower. He cursed himself for not having the foresight to clean it all up before he ran to fetch a doctor. Now it felt like evidence of Ronnie's burning hatred and he did not want to turn her pain into another faceless crime scene. There was a bloody foot print near a large shard of glass and it sent her hysterical words ringing through his ears once again making him feel useless. _

"_Miss Mitchell…" The nameless doctor started and didn't continue as he assessed his patient. _

_Ronnie had retreated to the corner of the room in his absence she seemed just as agitated as before he left. Even as she stood stock still irrepressible energy leapt from her like lightening. She scared him; he had not been prepared for the ferocity that came with her distress. She had never been so openly broken before. _

_He had not liked the sunken look in her eyes or her silence as he threw her father from the room. Then he made the mistake of asking what the cruel older man had said to her. She had pulled away from him and erupted into molten rage, his fingers had tangled in the waves of her hair but she did not seem to notice._

_The sudden loss of control was unexpected and he couldn't help but think that he had failed her again when she pulled away from his attempts to still her like his touch scolded her. The dark hatred in her eyes and the words she spat at him were something he didn't completely comprehend. So he had turned and left for help because maybe he couldn't cope._

"_What did you do Jack." Ronnie hissed at him as if he had betrayed her. She glanced between the two men nervously. _

"_I'm just trying to be there for you Ron, I don't like seeing you upset."_

_A mirthless laugh spills from her lips as she scratched at her wrist and he knows she remembers all the times he has asked her to let him in._

"_My baby just died so maybe I can't help being upset. If you don't like it you can just leave!" _

_Her words feel like a blow to his stomach and he has to tell himself that she did not know what she was saying._

"_I'm not going anywhere." He keeps his voice low and solid._

_The doctor glanced at him before stepping further into the room. "Miss Mitchell I appreciate this is a difficult time but it is important that your blood pressure stays low." _

"_I don't care!" She cried pushing the balls of her hands over her eyes and lacing her fingers through her hair. "I can't make him leave me alone. I can't rest till he leaves me alone. Why didn't he just kill me?"_

_All of Jack's words die before they escape his throat and his heart restricted painfully in his chest. If he could shoulder all her pain he would no it in a heartbeat. _

"_I'm going to give you a mild sedative to help you rest." The doctor was seemingly unfazed and though Jack was grateful for the help he did not share the other mans confidence. _

"_I don't want to sleep, please don't make me sleep." Her voice broke as she watched the doctor prepare a needle. "Jack." She pleaded eyes glassy with tears._

_He was quickly by her side, an arm around her waist as she guided her back to the bed. She limped slightly as if she just noticed her injured foot. "It will be fine sweetheart. I'm here, I'm here." He soothed. She stiffened but did not pull away as he gently pushed her into a sitting position and wrapped an arm around her shoulders._

_He remembered when Penny used to have nightmares and he had held her as her fear faded, only Ronnie's monsters where not under the bed or in her subconscious. There was silence apart from the occasional hiccupped sob from Ronnie. She buried her face into Jack's neck as the needle entered her arm._

"_It will get better Ron, I'm never going to leave you. I promise."_

Ronnie stood slowly her limbs heavy with fatigue. She frowned at the crisp whiteness of the bandages that were wrapped tightly around one of her feet.

Behind her Jack shifted in his sleep and she spun around afraid that he was waking up. She did not want him to break the stillness that was holding her together. Her fingers twitched to touch the strong line of his brow but she let her eyes soak up the sight of him instead.

She did not deserve him.

They were worlds apart and she could not drag him into her darkness. The hope he tried offer her was just as painful as her fathers malicious words. Her future was lost the moment she collapsed on the stairs and was replaced with rage and regret that would compel her until she burnt out. It was the only possible way she could try and amend the way she had sinned her children.

Quietly she found fresh clothes folded in a draw and she has half a memory of Jack telling her Roxy had picked them out for her. She dressed noiselessly, her paled skin glowing in the sunlight. A resolve like steel pulled at her muscles. She was going to end it once and for all.

She glanced at Jack one last time almost amazed that he could sleep through her epiphany. She owed him so much. A faint smile traced her lips as she thought of all the things she wanted to tell him. Maybe she would write him a letter so one day he understood.

The door clicked as she shut it behind herself.


End file.
